


The Swoop!

by oximoronicwriter



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Gay Sex, Hair Kink, Hair appreciation, Happy Ending, Humor, Idiots in Love, John Watson's hair, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Sherlock Holmes, Post-Season/Series 04, Sherlock (TV) Season/Series 04, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Slash, Stylish John Watson, angst if you squint, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26611756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oximoronicwriter/pseuds/oximoronicwriter
Summary: When John decides to grow his hair longer, Sherlock wonders why.Until that day.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 66





	The Swoop!

Sherlock had cataloged and put every piece of John Watson into his mind palace. John was always through the first door to the left. Through that door, there were multiple other doors leading to every tangent of John Watson. In the beginning, Sherlock thought he would need a new or a separate mind palace for his companion. He still thinks so. Perhaps he is too lazy to reorganize things. _Middle age, brother mine._

His eyes were the color of the deepest blue sea; his nose, which was slightly uplifted on the right side but elegant as ever; his hands, rough from practice but gentle when holding his hand; his mouth, oh that mouth, Sherlock couldn’t say enough about it. His lips stayed in a grim line when upset. He hated those moments the most and in recent years he seemed to be the cause of it. He hated that even more. The left side of his mouth would lift when he smirked whenever Sherlock made fun of Mycroft. But he could only truly see his lips when he smiled his full smile or laughed. Pink.

Sherlock doesn’t mind Pink. He wouldn’t mind a _Study In Pink_ as well. After all, that was their first case.

And then there was John’s hair. Platinum blond. Silver. Almost grey. Here and there, Sherlock could glimpse a fray of black. He loved John’s hair. Sherlock always thought it was a unique color on him. He shouldn’t be surprised, John was always unique. He liked it when he grew it slightly longer, when his fringes would fall on his forehead; he thought it made him look young and….sometimes adorable. Only sometimes. All the time. Sometimes. He always imagined running his fingers through that hair, lovingly moving his fringe to the side so he could kiss his forehead or gripping his hair and pulling him towards him to lay a seething kiss on his lips while they writhe together on the bed. Sherlock loved John’s hair.

That’s why when John decided to grow it longer, Sherlock had a hard time concentrating. He did not look too long, he didn’t to. He just stored it in his Mind Palace. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Sherlock wondered why John grew his hair so long.

Until that day.

_Hey, where are you?_

_2:00_

_JW_

_Baker Street._

_2:06_

_SH_

_Got a case? Mind if I drop by?_

_2:07_

_JW_

_You are welcome anytime, John. But no, no case so far._

_2:08_

_SH_

_Will be there soon._

_2:09_

_JW_

He was done looking over the blogs for cases and when none seemed to pop up, Sherlock turned to his experiment on the table. It was a few minutes later when John arrived. His footsteps familiar on the seventeen steps of their previously shared home. Only Sherlock lived there now, but it was always going to be John’s home too.

“Hey, I got your favorite biscuits from that bakery that you like.”

“Hmm.”

“What are you up to?”

“Just an experiment.”

“I’m free today, thought we could go out today before I get busy once Rosie is born.”

Sherlock looks up at John to confirm his assent. And he just keeps looking. Stricken. Oh my god.

It may seem a ridiculous and redundant statement but those were the first words that popped into his head.

John had let his hair grow but it did not fall on his shoulders like a stoned hippie’s or resembled Sherlock’s when he was back in Serbia. It was cut clearly above his nape. And there was the fringe that Sherlock liked. Except now, the fringe was standing on his head, perfectly gelled, a little puffed up and then fell in a swoop without touching his forehead. It was slicked on the side as well in a wavy fashion.

Sherlock really loved John’s hair. Oh, god he looked….downright _edible._ How can this man get sexier by age? John really was a conundrum in Sherlock’s life. A mystery. The only one he cannot solve.

“Sherlock? Sherlock.”

Sherlock snapped his eyes back to John’s.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, uh, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Nothing, just you kept staring which I’m used to but you haven’t responded in like a minute.”

“You changed your hair.” Sherlock murmured.

“What?”

“You changed your hair.” Sherlock doesn’t like repeating himself.

John touched his fingers to his hair. “Oh yeah, I wanted to get it cut but the stylist said this would look good.”

“Um…it does….it does look….good. That was good.”

John smiled his full smile and Sherlock’s stomach did a full swoop, corresponding to John’s hair.

And then John had to go do that.

Unconsciously so, he ran his fingers through the sides of his hair in a smooth glide. Sherlock knew now that he would stop functioning. Just like he stopped functioning when John told him he was his best friend.

“I’m making Tea, you want?”

“Uh, sure.”

* * *

Next time Sherlock could appreciate John’s swoop was after Rosie was born, when they were taking pictures and Sherlock was absorbed in his phone, trying to find Moriarty’s network. John stood up and stretched and Sherlock couldn’t help notice that John looked fit, his muscles better defined than before, especially his abs which Sherlock or anyone could make out through John’s well fitted shirts. When had John started wearing shirts like this?

For once, Sherlock didn’t care. He looked….. _hot_. He didn’t like where his mind was going but John saved him by asking him to be Rosie’s godfather. Although, Sherlock was touched deep _deep_ inside, he didn’t let it show. He turned to John at his side and took an internal gasp of breath. John’s hair looked ethereal in the sunlight. He wondered if this is this how the moon looked when sunlight hit upon its surface? His companion truly was a conductor of light.

Yes, Sherlock learnt a bit about the solar system for purely Work purposes.

* * *

John’s hair looked even better in the afternoon glow, when they went to Morocco to find Mary. Find her, they did. Sherlock thought John would be angry. But no, he seemed _hurt._ Which was worse for Sherlock since that was what he was trying to avoid since the beginning. But Mary made things difficult, _kept_ making things difficult.

In the afternoon glow, the sunlight hit his hair and turned it a shade of yellow-gold and silver. It was indescribable. His hair was still in what now Sherlock officially called The Swoop.

He loved The Swoop.

* * *

When John was beating him within an inch of his life, Sherlock although in pain, both physical and emotional , still thought his hair looked beautiful when The Swoop fell across his forehead. Sherlock always thought John was beautiful. He knew that John was hurting, knew that this was the product of that hurt, the hurt that Sherlock caused. All Sherlock still wanted to do was hug John, help him, comfort him, talk to him.

After John saved Sherlock’s life from Culverton Smith, they went back to Baker Street. Sitting across from each other, he never imagined they would be so uncomfortable.

And when Sherlock finally hugged John, his felt his hair at the nape, cut short and still silvery.

* * *

But Sherlock could only truly appreciate John’s hair when they finally _finally_ managed to voice out their feelings and sort everything out. Sherlock couldn’t stop running his fingers through his hair when he kissed John, when he went past him by the kitchen, when he grabbed them when they were on the bed just moving together in bliss.

“You seemed to like my hair.” John said after they had finished a round of the most _mind-blowing fantastic amazing_ sex they ever had. Well, that might have to be rectified later. Every time was better.

“I do. It’s more _pullable_.” Sherlock replied with smirk.

“Is that so?” John smiled that cheeky, mischievous smile that Sherlock loved so much. John was always a troublemaker. He pulled Sherlock closer and kissed him, softly and languidly.

“I was thinking of cutting it back to how it was. It is a bit high maintenance now.

“Nope. Petition to never cut The Swoop.”

“The what?” John laughed. “You named it? Wait, why am I asking? Of course you did. But why ‘The Swoop exactly?’”

“Because it is a Swoop. Like how a waterfall falls. Just Swoop.” Sherlock raked his fingers through John’s hair and let it fall on his forehead. “You are beautiful like this. Keep it. As to it being high maintenance, you are dealing with a high functioning sociopath with high maintenance. This is fairly easy.”

John looks at him for a moment and Sherlock thinks he is sad.

“You are not a sociopath. Far from it. Do you still believe that?”

John looks at him so tenderly that Sherlock has to disagree.

“Not anymore, I guess.”

“Listen to me Sherlock, you are not a sociopath, you are the most human human being and you are not high maintenance. You’re not any kind of maintenance. I love you for you. And I love all your quirks. I can say that by now I’ve grown quite fond of them.” John smiled at him and pulled him for a kiss. Sherlock lost himself in it for a moment.

“The Swoop stays.” He murmurs.

John laughs, shakes his head, as if fond. “All right, your Highness, it stays. Now, you did say it was quite pullable. Are you willing to show me?”

Well, Sherlock can’t deny _that._

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic! Criticism is welcome :D  
> Beta'd by @emiliehycinth who is my all-time collaborator and friend <3  
> More stories to come! Although I do not know how to take compliments, I surely welcome them lol.  
> Biiiiii.


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